


Wrong

by Mythdefied



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, RenIchi, non-con, not exactly rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 03:52:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythdefied/pseuds/Mythdefied
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wrong didn’t matter so much when Ichigo looked-<i>felt</i> so right beneath him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrong

This was/wasn’t wrong. Renji didn’t know which, couldn’t decide; didn’t _want_ to because wrong didn’t matter so much when Ichigo looked- _felt_ so right beneath him. 

Sparing (playing) alone and as wild and violent as they wanted (needed); shallow cuts, blood misting the air around them, clothes so tattered it was easy enough to just shred them entirely and take Ichigo down with him in the process. Skin bared quickly and if there was any protest Renji never heard it. High, shocked moans escaping Ichigo’s parted lips, brown eyes wide, dazed and unfocused as Renji bit his way down Ichigo’s neck, sucking and licking, leaving purplish teeth marks proclaiming his possession; this was all his now, claimed and marked and conquered.

Ichigo _writhed_ beneath him, hands alternately clawing at the ground and Renji’s shoulders, leaving stinging trails on Renji’s skin. This man who held more power than nearly anyone in the Seireitei, who had long since surpassed Renji, this man lay beneath him now, helpless in his body’s desire for what Renji was doing to him. Every moan, every surprised gasp that fell from his lips made Renji shudder as the need inside him wound tighter. Kissing his way across Ichigo’s chest, biting his small, brown nipples into taut peaks, drawing cries from Ichigo now; it was all too fast, Renji knew that; too sudden and too much, but he couldn’t stop. If he did he’d have to think and if he did that, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t hate himself.

One of Ichigo’s hands grasped at his hair, tangling in the loose strands and tugging hard enough to make Renji growl, drive his arousal even higher. Sliding a hand down sweat and blood-slicked skin, he wrapped it around the hard, hot length jutting up between Ichigo’s thighs. Sinking his teeth into the skin just below Ichigo’s nipple, he had a brief moment to enjoy the feel of the shaft in his grasp; soft skin and sticky pre-come dripping over his fingers, making it easy to slide his fingers up and down, the fit perfect in his hand. Just once, a long, slow slide, and Ichigo was crying out sharply, hand tightening in Renji’s hair to near-pain. Renji groaned at the feeling of Ichigo’s cock jerking in his grasp, come spilling hot and thick over his hand. He wanted to taste it, wished Ichigo would’ve lasted long enough for Renji to get down there, wrap his mouth around him, swallow him down deep and suck him off. But all it took was a touch, a stroke; he went off like a teenager - because he was. Fifteen years old; a fucking _kid_ in the real world and Renji had no business-

_No_. Renji pulled his mind away with a snarl; tightening his grip, he continued to stroke Ichigo’s cock even as Ichigo gave a slight whimper of protest. He had to be sensitive after just coming, maybe too sensitive, but Renji knew it wouldn’t take much and - yes, there. A twitch, Ichigo’s cock pulsing in his hand, firming. He licked his lips, looking up at Ichigo, grinning at his dazed, overwhelmed expression. There couldn’t be time to think, for either of them. There was nothing to think about. Ichigo wasn’t unwilling and by any and all standards of Soul Society, he was a grown man. There was no reason to think, or to stop.

And Renji had no intention of stopping, not before he’d had it all, everything Ichigo could give, everything Renji could take.

A few quick strokes was all it took to bring Ichigo back to full hardness, to have him gasping and panting again, his hand still locked in Renji’s hair. Renji didn’t try to pull free, enjoyed the slight pain in his scalp as he moved up to capture Ichigo’s mouth, thrusting his tongue past thin lips as he slid his hand down past Ichigo’s balls. He didn’t ease Ichigo into it. Two fingers, slick with Ichigo’s come; the only warning he gave was a light brush against soft, wrinkled skin. Ichigo sucked in a sharp breath, eyes suddenly finding focus, staring up at Renji. But before he could do or say a thing, Renji shoved his fingers in. Not deliberately rough, but steady, hard pressure until he was in to the second knuckle. He caught Ichigo’s surprised/pained cry in his mouth, kissing him deep, stroking his tongue, the roof of his mouth.

Ichigo’s hand swiftly left his hair; both hands grabbed his shoulders, pushed. He whimpered into Renji’s mouth.

Renji didn’t let up on the kiss, settled his free arm across Ichigo’s chest, holding him there. “Relax,” he murmured against Ichigo’s lips as he pushed his fingers deeper, twisting, searching - Ichigo jerked under him, made a muffled sound that was close enough to pleasure to make Renji pull back slightly and smirk down at him. Ichigo’s gaze had gone fuzzy again; his eyes rolled up when Renji rubbed hard against that spot.

“Yeah, like that.” Renji’s voice was harsh to his own ears, ragged-edged with hunger and need.

Ichigo’s hips pushed up against him, pushing his fingers deeper. It was probably pure instinct, nothing conscious on Ichigo’s part, but it didn’t matter. It was the response Renji was looking for and he moved his hand faster, fucking Ichigo with his fingers, barely holding on to his control as Ichigo picked up the rhythm, hips rocking and legs spreading wider. He was moaning continuously against Renji’s lips. Perfect.

Kissing him hard, Renji moaned himself when Ichigo’s tongue met his, followed his back into his mouth. The feeling of Ichigo’s tongue stroking across his, flicking up, hesitantly exploring his mouth - Renji’s cock jerked and that was it. He pulled his fingers out, a hint of smugness going through him at the sound of disappointment Ichigo made. Coating his hand with more of Ichigo's still warm come, he slicked his cock with a couple quick strokes; any more and he’d go off too fast.

He released Ichigo’s lips just long enough to murmur, “Breathe out and relax,” as he moved between Ichigo’s legs. Renji lined himself up and began pushing in.

Instantly Ichigo tensed up, clenching hard around the head of Renji’s cock and wrenching a hiss of pleasure from him.

“ _Fuck_!” Ichigo shouted, pain filling his voice and twisting his features. “Son of a -” He was trying to pull away but Renji grabbed his hip, held him steady and pushed deeper.

“Renji!” Ichigo nearly whined his name, teeth bared and clenched. “S-Sto-”

Renji slammed his mouth down on Ichigo’s, cutting him off. He couldn’t let Ichigo say it. If he said it, Renji would have to stop and he _couldn’t_. Being inside Ichigo was too good, too hot and too tight and one more good push and he was all the way in, balls against Ichigo’s ass, shivering as he felt Ichigo clench around him again and again, trying to get used to the penetration.

“You can take it,” Renji said, breathing heavily as he pulled back enough to look down at Ichigo. 

Ichigo’s eyes were clenched shut, his hands braced on the ground, fingers clawed into the dirt. His face was flushed, breath coming in harsh, pained pants, sweat sticking his hair to his skin, turning it a muddy auburn color. He was gorgeous. And he was Renji’s.

“Stop fighting it,” Renji said, rubbing lightly at Ichigo’s hip. “Breathe and quit tensing up.” He slid his lips up the side of Ichigo’s face, pausing to lick at a small cut on his cheek, the taste of blood and sweat hot on his tongue.

It was a struggle not to move; he wanted to pound into Ichigo, ride him hard and deep, but not until he was certain Ichigo really could take it.

Ichigo had drawn his knees up; his thighs were trembling. But he wasn’t clenching as tightly around Renji now and his breathing, while still hard, was more steady.

“Y-You...bastard.” It sounded like Ichigo had to force out the words.

“Yeah,” Renji pressed his forehead against Ichigo’s, “I know.” 

If Ichigo could talk then he was probably fine, or at least that’s what Renji decided to think. It was the excuse he used for starting to move, pulling a few inches out and sliding back in. Ichigo cried out, hands coming up to clench around Renji’s arms, but it was easier. Ichigo was still incredibly tight, but it didn’t feel like Renji was about to have his cock squeezed off now. A few long, slow thrusts and Ichigo’s nails weren’t digging into his skin as hard; his eyes were still clenched shut but he wasn’t cursing anymore. Renji figured that was probably all the go-ahead he was going to get.

The first time he really moved, thrusting fast and hard, Ichigo’s eyes snapped open and his back arched. Pain or pleasure, Renji couldn’t tell and he couldn’t make himself stop to find out. Swift and deep and holy fuck did Ichigo feel good! As perfect as Renji’d imagined, taking his cock like he was made for it, fingers clenching on Renji’s arms in the same rhythm as his thrusts. Heat moved fast through Renji, blooming out from the tight coil in his center, racing up his spine, making him push faster, harder.

Ichigo wasn’t fighting it, him. He was moving beneath Renji, uncertain and unskilled, but obviously trying to find the rhythm with his hips, with his whole body. Renji kissed his throat, murmuring encouragement, using his hand on Ichigo’s hip to guide him, move him faster.

He had to brace a hand on the ground beside Ichigo to stop them from sliding as he shoved in harder, rolling his hips and groaning at the intensity of the sensations. Sweat was beginning to drip off his face, landing on Ichigo’s chest to mingle with his. Renji closed his eyes, just wanting to hear, to feel.

Heat around him, though him, growing and burning. Strong legs starting to clench against his waist; tight, perfect ass swallowing his cock again and again. Ichigo’s sharp gasps and moans mingling with his own. He wanted it to last, wanted to fuck Ichigo like this for the next forever, feel Ichigo beneath him, around him. If he couldn’t have that, then he’d take Ichigo coming apart at his touch.

He slid his hand from Ichigo’s hip, took hold of his cock and gave him one tight, hard stroke.

Ichigo screamed. His whole body arched up, legs tightening against Renji with near crushing force as he came.

Renji didn’t have the breath to yell, the pressure of Ichigo’s legs and the white hot pleasure shooting straight to his groin robbing him of everything but movement. He slammed into Ichigo, over and over, releasing whatever control he’d had left, fucking him as hard as he could. If he’d had any bit of decency in him, he would’ve pulled out, but if he’d had that then he wouldn’t be here to begin with. He wanted to come inside Ichigo, needed to.

He pushed in as deep as he could, shuddering as the spasms hit him, his hips jerking out of his control. It kept coming, intense and blinding and Renji thought maybe he might have screamed and it might’ve been Ichigo’s name, but all he was really aware of was the rhythmic clenching of Ichigo’s muscles around him, the come shooting out of him so hard it fucking _burned_ \- and the way his entire body went utterly limp when he collapsed on top of Ichigo.

Eyes still closed, he just lay there, heart pounding, feeling Ichigo’s heart beating just as hard against his chest. His hips still twitched the occasional aftershock and it drew small moans from him; Ichigo was silent, his breath harsh in Renji’s ear.

He’d take whatever Ichigo did to him for this. Cursing, punching, hell, he’d even stand there an let Ichigo run him through with Zangetsu. It didn’t matter because it couldn’t erase this, what was already done.

_Mine_. The thought ran though his mind and Renji pressed a possessive kiss to Ichigo’s shoulder. It was true, if only for this moment. And right now, this moment was all that mattered.


End file.
